Up In Flames
by LuxaLucifer
Summary: Dear Diary. First things first, this is not a diary. Second, I am in love with one Riza Hawkeye. And third, I'm probably going to kill Havoc in less than two weeks. With love, Roy Mustang
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist.

First FMA fic! xD And my...hmm...forty-third overall just on this site...whatever.

I love FMA and figured it was about time to write a fic for it. It's Mustang's diary...cause Mustang is my favoirte. That's pretty much it. Trust me, the story is a lot less hyper than the intro. :)

Enjoy!

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><p>June 24th, 1916<p>

18:59

Disposition- Slightly annoyed

Dear Diary,

First things first, this is not a diary. Men don't have diaries. Men don't even have journals, but I'm going to waive that point for now.

Anyway, this journal thing was given to me by…sigh….I guess I'll admit it- Alex Armstrong. God, he scares me. Not only is he three times my size, but he manages to make uniform pants stretch tight enough to make me gag…if you know what I mean.

I decided to use this abominable item to document my quest to make my one and true love be mine. You see, I'm not very good at admitting my feelings. So I've kind of been sitting on this for, you know, fifteen years or so. Not too long or anything.

Yes, yes, diary, I should introduce myself. Don't worry: it's my favorite subject. I am Brigadier General Roy Mustang, AKA the Flame Alchemist. I am just that awesome.

Except I am in love, which sucks. Trust me, it does. And if you don't know that, you're going to end up dying alone after your cats abandon you. Just saying.

I am in love with….here goes….bacon. Ok, no, I'm in love with Riza Hawkeye. Bacon is very epic, though. You know, epic, like Homer. The Odyssey? Get it?

Something else that brought on my spontaneous word-puke is my asshole of a friend, Jean Havoc. The one who used to be my subordinate and turned into a kick-ass weapons guy? Yeah, that was cool until he turned from that into the even-more-annoying-than-Hughes best friend. Didn't think it was possible, huh? Me neither. It's probably 'cause Havoc's not married. You know, can't get a date and all that.

Our conversation went a little like this:

Havoc- Heeeeeeeeeeey, Roy.

Me(bored, doing paperwork, ugh)- What's wrong with you?

Havoc(trying to wink to roguishly but failing-like always)- I've got a plan.

Me- Oh?

Havoc- I'm gonna get you a date.

Me- Oh.

Havoc- No, no, I'm serious this time.

Me- Ah.

Aren't I witty? I'm sure anyone else would have come up with a snappy comeback for that, but not the great General. No, not me.

Havoc- Everyone's figured it out, you know. We know you're in love.

Me- Damn it. I mean, er, what're you talking about?

Havoc- Wow, Subtle.

Yeah, he's right. That sucked. No excuse.

Me- How'd you know?

At this time I became mysteriously involved in my paperwork, which had been badly neglected. You might even say ignored.

Havoc- It's obvious!

(Insert swear word here)

Me- (Repeat)

Havoc (grinning)- Potty-mouth.

Me (sighing)- Whatever. So, do you actually have a plan to get me my girl or are you going to do what you normally do?

Havoc- Which is?

Me- Make a mess of everything.

Havoc- While that does sound fun, I would like to make a bet. Give me two weeks to get you a date with the love of your life. If I do, you have to grow a moustache. If I don't, I shave my head. How's that?

After several horrible minutes involving insulting his sanity, ancestry, and personal hygiene, I agreed.

What the hell is wrong with me?

It may not sound as bad as it is, but trust me, things haven't looked this bleak since Breda convinced Falman thongs were in.

See, I want Havoc to win. I want a date with my beloved Riza. I want her to love me.

But…I can't grow a moustache. I mean, I can, but it SUCKS. It is the most unmanly thing in the world. I swear on the Führer that it looks like a limp little worm appeared on my upper lip. I grew one in the rebellion for a really short time before Riza threatened to rip it off if I didn't shave. I did so gladly.

And that is my proof, oh glorious man journal, that this is going to suck either way. I get a date with Riza and it goes well, only to dump me because I grew a moustache or I don't and Havoc shaves his head, which sound be fun. However, it means that I made no progress.

This stinks as bad as Black Hayate's little accidents.

Haha, Riza thinks I'm doing paperwork because I'm writing in you. I'm a tricky one, aren't I?

So. I need to keep writing in you to make Riza happy, but I'm almost burned out. Yeah. I have so much paperwork to do…I hate having a desk job. Who would think getting to Führer would take so much _work_?

Ugh. Oh, crap. Riza's glaring at me. I think she knows this isn't paperwork. Gotta go.

With manly love,

Brigadier General **Roy Mustang**

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><p>Mustang''s name was originally in a cursive font, but you know ...<p>

I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope you enjoyed reading it! I'm almost done with the other chapters, so it won't be too long before more comes out. It's not going to be very long, don't worry!

Please review! :)


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer- I don't own Fullmetal Achemist.

Enjoy! :)

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><p>June 26th, 1916<p>

14:21

Disposition- Calm enough to worry

Dear Diary,

I don't know whether to kiss Havoc or kill him. For his sake, neither.

Wait, why am I worried about Havoc? His stupid bet may lead me to a spiralling pit of downfall to hell, or worse, spending an eternity listening to Hughes talk about his daughter and how I need to get married. Although that wouldn't be so bad…

Ah! EVEN IN THE AFTERLIFE HUGHES IS MAKING MY LIFE HIS TO CONTROL! STUPID MARRIED IDIOT!

Anyway, back to my life, which is the only subject I'm really interested in. Things are going normally, which is scaring me quite a lot. Falman and Breda have been playing a TON of chess, since there's been, like, no work lately. Of course, Falman's been doing a lot of losing, too. Fuery is…crap, where is that kid? He may have gotten buried in piles of my paperwork (cue evil laugh)!

This is where my lovely Riza would yell at me and tell me that paperwork is my responsibility, not Fuery's, and Fuery has enough to take care of in the communications department…eh, whatever.

I presume Havoc's trying his best to get me to grow a moustache, especially after our earlier conversation. Oh, yeah, I didn't tell you about that, did I? Here goes!

Havoc (strutting in to MY office to take a sip of MY coffee and sit in one of MY chairs)- Hey, man. I'm working on the date, don't worry. Then your moustache will be mine, all mine!

This was followed by a bone-chilling laugh that made me want to curl up in the fetal position and cry uncontrollably. However, I sucked it up liked a man should. I think he's cracked from being dumped too often.

Havoc- I don't see why you like her so much.

Me (annoyed)- What's not to love?

Havoc- Huh? She's horrible to almost everyone, including you!

Me- No she's not!

Havoc- You're oblivious, man. They don't call her the Ice Queen for nothing.

Me- Who calls her the Ice Queen!

Havoc- Pretty much everyone in the army. C'mon, you had to know that.

Me (spluttering)- Of course I did!

Havoc (winking)- Sure. I gotta go, I just stopped in for a chat.

Then he left, leaving me to resist the urge to snap my fingers. Who calls Riza the Ice Queen! I'll roast them alive! I'll burn them to a crisp! I'll crack their brains open! I'll break off their feet and stick them on their head! I-

Shit, I sound like Ed. Calm down.

Seriously, though, why does it feel like I'm missing something?

With _very _manly love,

Brigadier General **Roy Mustang**

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><p>Chapter two! Not many reviews, but that's all right, considering how much I love writing this! :) Review, though, because I do want them! xD<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer- I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Enjoy! :)

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><p>June 27th, 1916<p>

16:01

Disposition- Freaking out!

Dear Diary,

Please cover your ears (or whatever you do to ignore me) so you don't have to hear/see/whatever this.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! GOD DAMN HAVOC! AHHHHH! EEEEEEEE! HHHHHEEEEEEELLLLLLPPPPPPP! ! HOW COULD YOU, YOU IDIOT!

I'd do more, but my hand hurts. :/

Bad news. Very, very, bad news. Havoc set me up on a date with THE WRONG PERSON! I should've known from the last conversation, but NO, I didn't get it! Who does the entire military call the Ice Queen, including me! NONE OTHER THAN OILVIER MIRA ARMSTRONG! I'M GONNA DIE!

WHY THE HELL WOULD HE THINK I LOVE HER! I BARELY HAVE GRUDGING RESPECT FOR HER! SHE TERRIFIES ME! AHHHHHHHHHHH!

Ok, now that I've had a chance to regain my sanity, I have a mind TO MURDER HAVOC.

Yes, yes, you may wonder why I am so emotional, since I am usually the strong and silent type. The strong, silent, and sexy type. ;)

Havoc was under the dumbass impression that I was in love with Major General Armstrong. Apparently she's visiting Central for the month and Havoc thought it was the time to set us up!

AND SHE SAID YES! WHY THE HELL DID SHE SAY YES!

What if Armstrong's interested in me? I'm not sure which Armstrong would be worse, to tell the truth! If Olivier _is _interested, she'll KILL me if I reject her! All the fire in the world won't save me! I AM SO SCREWED!

…Although I think she is better than Alex. I'm not into muscley guys.

Or, er, guys at all, I mean…

It was just a little while in the Academy alright! No need to embarrass me, you asshole of a diary! Shut up! And I'm not getting defensive! I was young and Hughes was hot!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! MY DAY JUST GETS WORSE!

What am I going to do! How am I going to get out of this!

Maybe I should just go on the date, screw it up, and have her kick my ass. Then I can point out to Havoc that he did not indeed set me up on a date with the love of my life and get out of growing a moustache. And after that I'll grow the balls to ask Riza out.

Haha, yeah right.

Maybe I should.

I won't.

I will!

I can't!

It's been fifteen years!

Shut up!

Stop arguing with yourself!

I think Fuery and Falman are staring at me funny, plus my hand is cramping, so I'm gonna stop writing and go play a game against Breda to avoid paperwork. And lose, of course.

Lots and lots and lots of man-filled love,

Brigadier General **Roy Mustang**

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><p>Quick updates? Yep, 'cause i'm already done with writing the whole thing! I'm staggering the updates, but I won't make anyone wait too long! :) Thanks for the reviews I have and I hope for more! :)<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Dsiclaimer- I don't own FMA. :(

Enjoy!

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><p>June 29th, 1916<p>

21:33

Disposition- In extreme pain, but coherent.

So. Today I went on a date with Major General Olivier Mira Armstrong.

I almost died.

I was literally seconds away from death.

Here's what happened-

I showed up at the Very Expensive Restaurant where Havoc told me to meet her and winced. I almost, ALMOST walked off until I realized what an unpleasant sound my ribs cracking would be.

She was in there, glaring at me as I shuffled in, trying to hide behind my Badass Longcoat. It didn't work. It never does.

Now, I know I used theatre script to do dialogue, but I'm going to write it like a novel now. Theatre dialogue is boring and hard to write. Haha, I almost misspelled that as wiener. I'm not sure how though…

"It looks like you did show up," said Armstrong briskly. "I was thinking about punching you in the chest if you didn't."

I knew it!

"Mmm." I said intelligently. She was looking splendid, seeing as this was the first time I'd seen her out of uniform. Ever. Her shirt was low-cut and her breasts were very voluptuous. She'd be hot if I went for crazy, work-crazed military psychopaths and felt like betraying Riza.

Ew, I think Kimblee falls under that category.

He's hot too. Just saying.

"Sit down and stop looking at my boobs."

"Sorry." I croaked, and sat down. She stared at me unblinkingly, making me feel violated and scared at the same time. How does she do this? I want to know.

"Why did you want to go on a date with me?" she asked bluntly. I smiled. Thank god.

Then I realized I'd have to answer.

So I didn't.

She tapped her side, chuckling evilly. I glanced under the table and realized, accompanied by a cold sweat, that she had brought her sabre.

It was then that I began to fear for my life.

"Relax," she said sweetly. "I know you're not interested in anything about me except my boobs."

"I'm not interested in your boobs!" I spluttered.

Olivier swung her long, blonde hair over her shoulder. "Sure you're not. Be happy I'm not hurting you for lying. So, tell me, why have you decided to send Havoc in your place to ask me out?"

"I didn't," I muttered, pushing away images of my bleeding and crying as she cackled over my half-dead corpse. I had to play it safe. "We made a bet. He said he could get me a date with the love of my life in two weeks."

"And what were the stakes?"

"I grow a moustache if he wins, he shaves his head if he loses."

She snorted. Very unladylike. "I might stick around to see that moustache. I remember that greasy little thing."

"Shut up." I grumbled. She shot me a look and I was the one who shut up.

"I don't remember you being this whipped." she giggled. God, she giggled! Argh, I think I'm dying!

"Love will do that to a man."

"So, who do you love?"

I cleared my throat. "Secrets, secrets."

"Riza Hawkeye, right?"

Dammit, when did she get so wise?

"Maybe."

"How long?"

"Since what, lunch?"

"Oh, Roy, you've been so obedient today. Don't make me hurt you."

Damn her.

"How long have you loved her?"

My response came out as a mumble.

"What was that? You're wearing my patience out."

I wanted to tell her where she could stuff her incredibly thin patience, but instead I said, "About fifteen years."

"Roy, you're thirty-two!"

How the hell does she know that!

"You've loved her since you were seventeen!" she continued, but her eyes were flicking to a spot behind me. She kept ranting, but reached into her pocket and pulled out a pad and paper. She wrote on it as she yelled and I tried to look both nonchalant and scared while trying to figure out what she was writing. Not easy, let me tell you.

**Roy, you dumbass, don't look behind you, but Havoc is spying on us.**

Even as I write this I still want to burn Havoc alive for his annoying-as-hellness.

Yes, that is now a word.

She winked at me and said loudly. "Oh, Roy, stop it. We're in a public place! Don't you think your hand is going a little to deep?" And she started moaning deeply. I quickly put my hand under the table.

The old lady next to us got up and scurried off, scandalized.

We heard a quickly stifled gasp from the potted plant two booths away from us. Aha!

"I have to use the bathroom," she panted. "Roy, come with me."

She grabbed my arm and we tiptoed to wear Havoc was spying on us, not noticing that we'd heard him.

"Boo." said Olivier.

Havoc jumped a foot in the air. He grinned sheepishly at us. "You two sounded like you were having fun."

"I was faking it," said Olivier calmly. "This is for being an idiot and screwing with us." And she kicked him in the balls.

"The jewels!" he gasped.

I was too busy laughing at him to notice that she had turned to me.

"And this is for not having the balls to tell you that woman you love her." said Armstrong. And she kicked me in the balls, not once, not twice, but six times. Olivier wears steel-toed boots, by the way. Oh, and that's not all. As I was lying on the ground, she reached down and grabbed my ball sack. I heard a very sickening noise.

And she walked off.

That is how I ended up in my apartment with four ice packs on my privates and Havoc tending to my every whim. Trust me, I deserved it. Havoc actually had to carry me home, and I still can't walk. I probably won't go into work tomorrow (oh, the pity).

Shit! I'll have to tell Riza why I didn't come into work! I can't exactly tell her the truth! She'll laugh at me!

…Or she won't believe me.

Whatever.

Just to let you know, Havoc has been apologizing all night and is letting me use his head as I write this. He's not even teasing me about the diary.

….It's not really worth the bruises. Havoc promised me I'd still be able to have kids, but I'm not so sure.

I'd say goodbye with manly love, but I'm also not so sure I'm a man anymore.

Brigadier General **Roy Mustang**

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><p>I love my dad. I really, really, love my dad. You know why? Because it's Easter, which I had forgotten about, and my dad remembered and not only got me an Easter basket but stuck and Ed plushie in there! I have an Ed plushie! :) My dad loves fma too. He went as Bradley for a con once (I went as Ed).<p>

As I've said before, I love writing this. And yes, another quick update. They'll all be like this, don't worry~! Please tell me what you think and review!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer- I don't own FMA.

Enjoy!

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><p>June 30th, 1916<p>

15:31

Disposition- Hopeful

Riza came to visit me today.

Yeah.

Today. The day after I got brutally assaulted by Olivier and her steel-toed boots. Six times, and topped off with the hand-crunch-thingy. It's almost twenty-four hours later and I still can't walk. I'm not even close to walking, in fact. So, naturally, I took off work.

And I was very, very, bored. It's not like I could ask a woman out on a date right now. There's no good radio stations yet, and I've read all my research books, like, a million times.

So I sat there with a cooler for my ice packs on my chair facing the bookshelf, watching paint peel. Havoc had to go to work, so I was alone. The pain was almost enough to distract me. Almost.

And several boring hours later, my doorbell rang. I ignored it. It rang again. I ignored it again. This went on until I got annoyed, yelled, "I'm not home!", realized my mistake, and sighed.

I grabbed the crutches I'd rescued from my cluttered closet and hobbled to the door to find Riza there, looking at me in all my bedraggled glory. I was (and am) wearing old pyjamas and a really old, stained muscle shirt I think I borrowed from Kimblee in the Rebellion. Yeah, it's ancient. Plus, I was on crutches, hasn't taken a shower and haven't combed my hair. I was (and am) a mess.

Riza's eyebrows shot up. "Colonel?"

We both blinked and she coughed. "I mean, er, Brigadier General?"

"Yeah?" I groaned. My voice sounded hoarse and STILL a little too high-pitched! Damn it, I thought that had gone away yesterday!

"May I come in?"

I opened the door to let her in and crutched (word?) back to my comfy chair. I saw her eyes glide over my chair and the cooler full of ice packs, plus the one that had slid to the floor when I'd gotten up.

"You're injured." she stated. I cringed. Yeah, I was, as if the crutches hadn't given it away, but still, I'd held on to the faint hope…

"Yeah." I said, plopping into the chair. I didn't put the ice pack back, however, hoping I wouldn't have to tell her exactly HOW I was injured.

"What happened, Roy? How'd you get injured?"

EEEEEEE! SHE CALLED ME ROY! :)

"Oh, just a little incident." I looked longingly at my ice pack. The numbness was fading quickly.

Riza put her hands on her hips and I found that I couldn't keep my eyes off them. They were gorgeous-

Ahem. Anyway, back to our conversation.

"Where are you injured?"

I gestured to the upper leg area and I saw comprehension dawn in Riza's eyes.

"What. Did. You. Do? Did you go on a date with someone and mess with them! Did you take advantage of someone!"

Riza got close in my face, close enough for me to smell her soap. Not perfume, soap. You might think it's not very feminine, but I think it's beautiful. She's beautiful. I mean it, Diary. She has so much grace, no matter if it's when she's looking at me and smiling or about to snipe someone from a tower.

"I didn't hurt anyone! I didn't do anything! I haven't gone on a date since the revolution!" I protested truthfully. Sadly, but truthfully.

"Then why have you been…incapacitated this way?" Her hesitation to address my injuries make her look so cute!

"Olivier Armstrong." I said weakly.

"Oh."

I reached for the nearest ice pack and placed it in my (very) bruised area. "It's Havoc's fault, really."

"And why would Olivier do this to you? I know she's violent, but she usually has a reason."

"Well-and yes, you can appreciate the irony- she told me that I didn't have the balls to do something I want to do. Something I've wanted to do for years now, in fact."

Riza didn't say anything, just smiled a little.

"She was right. I wish she'd found another way to express herself, but she was right." I sighed. Yes, I'm finally showing a little bit less of the idiot and more of the Mustang Ed remembers so well. No, wait, that Mustang's a moron too…I guess I'm showing the Mustang that I wish I was brave enough to show more often, the me that loves my subordinates and friends, but most of all Riza.

I'm a corny sap, aren't I?

"And what is it that you need to do?" asked Riza softly.

"I need to tell someone something. Something important."

"And who do you need to tell this something to?"

I met her eyes. "You."

This seemed to catch her off guard. Wow, she's perceptive, huh? Fifteen years, and she's got no idea.

"Why don't we meet up soon, at a restaurant?" I asked without thinking. If I had been thinking, I probably wouldn't have had the balls.

Point taken, Major General Armstrong. Point taken.

"How soon?" she asked.

"A couple days. I, er, need a little time to relearn how to walk."

She laughed and smiled and I wished she hadn't cut her hair, because it would've looked perfect if it had swung in the air then.

"Two days from now, at the bar near work. 20:00. Got it?"

"Yep." I said, getting through my confusion to reply.

"Good. It's a date."

She waved as she left, leaving me to smile dazedly and write in you.

A date, huh?

With my manly love returned,

Brigadier General **Roy Mustang**

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><p>I hope you liked it! Yes, I have read Diary of a Lovesick Mutant. I was hoping the similarities weren't that obvious...:( Thanks for reading and please review!<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer- I don't own FMA.

Enjoy!

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><p>July 1st, 1916<p>

24:41

Disposition- Tired, but deliriously happy

Dear Diary,

It's late, but I just had to write in you before I went to bed. Guess what! I'M HAPPY AND I HAVE BALLS!

Today I woke up with the wonderful feeling of being able to walk. Trust me, it's amazing. Now I know why Havoc's so happy-go-lucky. He knows how much it sucks not being able to walk.

Now that we've had our daily dose of depressing, let's move on.

I met Riza at the bar she'd told me too. She…well, I'll say it, since this is my diary and no one else should be looking at it…looked hot! Really hot! I thought Olivier looked good, but Riza is gorgeous…drool…

So, she looked at me when I walked in and I fiddled with my scarf. Yes, that sentence sounds gay, but I think a nice long scarf added to a black coat and a evening coat is very tasteful.

For god's sake, it was the ACADEMY! I don't swing that way anymore! Stop laughing at me, you infernal thing! Did Armstrong do something to this item of mockery?

I sat on the stool next to her, admiring the Xingese style shirt she was wearing. The _fully zipped up _Xingese shirt, thank you very much.

"Good evening, General."

"We're off duty. Call me Roy." Damn, I sounded so much more suave than I felt.

"Call me Riza."

SQEEE!

"If you say so."

How did I do that? I'm practically hyperventilating just thinking about how cool I was being!

"I didn't know you drank." I said, looking around at our surroundings. A little dingy, but not too bad, considering it was Breda who had designed this place last year. It's the military's hangout, and Breda was thrilled to have the job. AKA…he likes beer.

"I don't, really," she replied. "Just once and a while when a certain someone gets himself into serious trouble again."

I don't get in trouble that much!

"I only drink when I get depressed," I said, then realized what an unattractive thing to say that was. Oops. "I mean, I'm not depressed that often, but when I am I-ugh, never mind."

Riza laughed and I smiled awkwardly. Do I always act this way? I used to think I came off disinterested and cool to other people, but now I'm not so sure…

I WANT MY REPUTATION BACK!

"Breda designed this place, didn't he?" said Riza, looking around. "This is my first time here."

"I've been here before. It's not bad."

"Are you telling me you've been depressed since this bar opened?"

Damn it, why can she catch me so much off guard!

"Not depressed so much as brooding."

"Brooding? Why would you brood?"

I smirked. "Don't worry. It's nothing new."

Riza met my eyes with hers, and my throat went dry. "Why do you brood? I'm supposed to protect you, and I think that stands for more than physically."

Well ain't that something special?

Could I tell her? Could I tell her that I brood over her? That's why I came here, to tell her that I loved her, but could I do it?

Read and find out, sucker.

"Did you hear me? I asked you a question, Col-Roy."

I love it when she messes up and calls me Colonel. I like the title Colonel better than Brigadier General. I'm not sure, but to me it has more appeal. Maybe it's because Colonel is the last rank deployable in the field. Man, do I miss field work. Paperwork sucks.

"My love life." I answered vaguely.

"I was under the impression that you we quite a ladies man."

Those were the days…

"I find that those romances aren't real romances. I think I'm getting to the age where I'd like to settle down."

"I never thought I'd hear those words from you." said Riza thoughtfully.

"I've been thinking about them a while now. And you?"

"I think I'd settle down if I could find the right guy."

"And who would the right guy be?"

"You tell me that, Colonel."

That Colonel was SO on purpose!

"I think the right guy for you would be…a bit of an idiot, but you'd like that so you could put him in line. He'd be someone you can trust, and someone you could depend on keeping his promises. He might be a little grumpy on the outside, but he'd be able to tell a good joke now and then whether or not you'd laugh. And be dedicated, very dedicated." I said, rambling on a little out of nervousness.

"Sounds like someone I know."

"Who, Falman? Fuery?"

"You, Roy."

There were totally butterflies in my stomach then!

"Riza, there's been something I've been meaning to tell you."

"I know. Come out and tell me."

"I love you."

And we kissed. And then she told me she loved me. And we laughed and we cried a little bit and got embarrassed and my hand hurts so I'm going to stop writing. But I am happy, Diary, very happy. :)

Seriously, though, my hand is cramping.

With the love of a manly man's love confessed,

Brigadier General **Roy Mustang**

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><p>:) One more chapter! Thank you for reading this, yadayada. :) Review!<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer- I don't own FMA.

Last chapter...:( This isn't my most well-loved fanfic, but it may be my favorite! and I have a lot, so that's saying something!

:) Enjoy!

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><p>July 6th, 1916<p>

12:00

Disposition- Happy/I hate you

Dear Diary,

It has been two weeks since I started that bet with Havoc. I now have to grow a mustache. Or, as Havoc has taken to calling it , a MOOstache…I'm very close to punching Havoc in the face. For one, I just recently remembered that Havoc was discharged from the military forever ago. So, either he was reinstated and no one told me or _someone's been letting him in! _What the hell?

That odd phenomenon aside, you may be wondering why I have to grow a mustache when Havoc totally didn't get me a date with Hawkeye. Except, according to him, Falman, Fuery, Breda, Hawkeye (traitor), Armstrong, and probably Hughes' ghost, that he indirectly got me a date with Hawkeye by getting me a date with Armstrong (different one!), who beat me up and got it into my head that I needed to confess to Riza.

But! It's not all bad news! Havoc admitted it didn't go the way he thought it would and he shaved his head. Riza promised not to break up with me when the mustache grows in, and I'm allowed to shave it in a couple months (shudder….two whole months).

CRAP! What's Ed going to do when he sees the mustache! He's supposed to be visiting Central in a month! He and Al are going to laugh so much…

And then Grumman and Scar (or whatever his name is now) are coming to see me in two weeks…

This as a short diary, only seven entries. But I'm confident that when I'm Führer I'm going to look back at this Diary and laugh and smile (and cringe. Lots of cringing).

Maybe one day I'll let Riza read it. She'll probably smile and hit me and hopefully smile more.

Off to return to full manliness with the retirement of my diary,

Brigadier General **Roy Mustang**

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><p>Sorry the last chapter's so short, I just wanted to finish things off. Sorry to those who thought this would be really long. I would love to, but I already have a really long fanfic going, so I feel that I can't. Also, I'd like to tell you about the most awesome song. Look up This is War FMA Brotherhood AMV. AMAZING! gives my goosebumps every time! LOL And lastly, thank you to all my reveiwers and to Audburrito, who doesn't think she's worthy of the best award but is. :)<p>

Please review!


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